Life Everlasting
by Jade Hunter
Summary: As she embarks on her world tour, Winnie looks back and wonders if she made the right choice. COMPLETE, Sequel coming soon.
1. With Hesitations

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Title: Life Everlasting

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Author: Jade Hunter

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A.N: Okay, I read the book in like fourth grade and hated the sad ending. I went to see the movie in hopes for a glorified Hollywood happy ending, but was let down because FOR ONCE the writers stuck to the true ending. So, nagged incessantly with a feeling of disappointment and a need to write an alternate ending, I finally decided to put all my other projects on hold and write this.

Disclaimer: None of the characters of Tuck Everlasting belong to me, and neither do the spring and its magical powers.

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"Winifred, face the front and sit properly," her mother stated, but without the harsh note in her tone that had always before lined her words with steel. It was now more of a request than an order. After Winnie's return from her days with the Tucks and the death of her grandmother, Winnie's mother had changed in many ways. She no longer acted as if she expected Winnie to be the perfect Lady; rather, she seemed to realize that her daughter was special, unique, and not abnormal.

Winifred Foster, more commonly referred to as Winnie, took one last glance at her large house that had been her prison for all of her young life so far. Then, as if compelled by an unknown force, her bright blue eyes were drawn to the woods that had been her backyard, as it were, the woods that she had never actually been in until that fateful day. 

She hadn't much room to turn, but fifteen-year-old Winnie tried the best she could, craning her neck and hoping unconsciously for a glimpse of...something, anything, that would reassure her that her decision was the right one.

For the hundredth time, Jesse's words echoed in her mind - _"Go back to the spring and drink the water; I'll come back for you...Winnie Foster, I will love you until the day I die."_

Those words, along with the memory of his handsome face - with his laughing eyes and earnest expression - made her smile, as she always did when she thought of that Jesse Tuck. However, also as always, the grave voice of Angus Tuck followed immediately after, swallowing up her smile in a pool of melancholy sorrow.

_"What we Tucks do can't be described as living...don't be afraid of death, Winnie, be afraid of the unlived life."_

She had come to see, after days of sitting by the magical spring and playing with the water, that what Angus Tuck had said to her contained words of wisdom from experience. She knew she could never find that sort of advice in any book, nor could she ever learn that lesson from any etiquette school in the world. 

Winnie had realized that it did not matter how long she lived her life...the only thing that mattered was that she lived her life to the fullest. And after weeks of indecision, Winnie decided not to drink the water, to accept her father's proposition - she did not have to go to finishing school and could travel the world on one condition: they, as a family, travel the world together. It seemed that loosing their daughter, even for the briefest of days where she had been completely safe, had been enough the change both her parents.

The car door slammed as her father and the driver got in, jolting Winnie out of her thoughts, and she belatedly did as her mother had asked, turning around to settle more comfortably in the seat. With a roar, the car started, and they were off, driving down the dirt road, her father and mother with small smiles on their faces and Winnie, who, despite herself, turned around once more...

_"I wish this moment could last forever."_

...still looking back...

_"Do you want to spend forever with me, Winnie?"_

...still searching.

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A.N: Well that's the end of the prologue. Sorry it's so short, but...this basically covered what I wanted to be said.


	2. Many Apologies

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Title: Life Everlasting

Author: Jade Hunter

A.N: Okay, I read the book in like fourth grade and hated the sad ending. I went to see the movie in hopes for a glorified Hollywood happy ending, but was let down because FOR ONCE the writers stuck to the true ending. So, nagged incessantly with a feeling of disappointment and a need to write an alternate ending, I finally decided to put all my other projects on hold and write this.

Disclaimer: None of the characters of Tuck Everlasting belong to me, and neither do the spring and its magical powers.

"talking:

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thinking

emphasis

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"Winnie, breakfast!"

Pausing in front of the mirror for one last assurance that her appearance was proper, Winnie dashed for the door, grabbing her small purse and bonnet on the way. She quickened her pace until she was at the stairs, but refrained from running down, instead placing a slender hand on the banister. It had been a year since she and her parents had set forth from Treegap; they were now residing in Florida, having purchased a seaside home for the duration of their stay. 

Winnie was sixteen now, her birthday long passed, and although she would never admit it, found herself acting proper. It wasn't to the extent that her mother had first desired of her, so short a time ago, but there was a new feminine urge inside her to be…feminine. She still had the qualities that made her Winnie, that same curiosity, the same innocence, the same brightness that made her enjoy the simple things in life, but she was also a young woman now, with a young woman's feelings and desires.

She was becoming a lady.

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And all on my own, too, Winnie smiled. _Who would have thought?_

She stepped into the dining room, placing her purse and bonnet in the hands of the butler – one of only three servants in the entire house – and waited until he pulled out her chair for her before moving to sit.

Her mother smiled, "Good morning, dear."

"Good morning," she replied, and folded her hands together.

Both women – Winnie fought the urge to giggle at herself for considering herself a woman already – turned to the man who sat at the head of the table, Winnie's father.

He smiled at her, eyes crinkling in good nature, and also folded his hands together, preparing to say grace before they started on their morning meal. He kept it short, but meaningful, and before long, the three of them were passing baskets of biscuits and plates of other food.

"Anything interesting in the news today, dear?" Winnie's mother asked her husband, knowing his habit of reading the morning paper before breakfast. "More news of the war?"

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The war, Winnie remembered with startling clarity. _The one overseas. The one Miles wanted to fight in._

As her parents talked of the new happenings in the war since it began a year ago, Winnie drifted in her still bright memory of the Tuck family, who had shown her a world outside her restricted gates. They had been something more than normal, but they had also been perfectly normal, baking, cooking, building, and having arguments. She remembered one from her stay there, between Angus Tuck and his oldest son, about Miles wanting to join the army and fight in the war. From their tones, she was able to discern that it wasn't the first or last time they had fought over it. Jesse had taken her to see a fawn only moments later, however, and she'd forgotten completely about it until now.

Thus, her trail of thought – from the war to Miles to the Tucks – eventually led her to the one person she had tried not to think about for an entire year. 

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Jesse. She remembered the boy – despite his age, she couldn't think of him as a man because of the carefree way he acted – who had changed her life for the better. _I wonder…do you think of me, Jesse? I think of you, no matter how hard I try not to._ _Where are you? I hope you're not looking for me in Treegap…no, Winnie, it's too soon. He's probably somewhere else, having a grand time of it…_

"Are you all right, darling?"

Winnie started a bit, looking up from her plate where she had been picking at her eggs. Her mother was looking at her in concern, her father also turning to her in askance.

"I said, dear, are you all right? You've picked at your food for the last ten minutes." Winnie's mother repeated.

Winnie nodded and smiled, returning her attention to her breakfast, "I'm fine, thank you. I was just in thought."

Her parents nodded, then exchanged a look. She knew that they were wondering whether or not she would run away again. Winnie would never do that, for she was happy with her parents now, but they still worried from time to time. They would never recover from that time. For that, Winnie was frightfully sorry, though she could never be sorry she had run away.

Her father placed his fork down, and looked at her with another smile, "We've been in Florida for three months now, Winnie. Is there any special place you'd like to go next, or would you like to stay here?"

They always asked her that, everywhere they went, saying this trip was for her benefit more so than theirs, although they enjoyed traveling as well. Winnie had never seen her mother look so happy, or her father look so relaxed. The vacation was doing them all some good. However, she had grown bored of beaches, and she knew her parents must have, too, for they only asked her when they grew weary of a place, thinking she might be weary as well. It was true, for the most part, and they'd jumped from place to place without any pattern.

"Mmm," Winnie also placed her fork down, wiped the corners of her mouth with the napkin from her lap, then placed it on her plate, for she was done eating. She barely noticed her mother doing the same, with an approving smile on her face, so deep in thought as to where she wanted to go.

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We've already been to Texas, she thought, recalling the heat and the ranches and the horseback riding they'd partaken in, _to New York,_ with its ever-busy streets and people, _and to Maine,_ where the wilderness was as beautiful as it had been in Treegap.

"What do you think of Louisiana?" she asked.

Her mother brightened, "That sounds wonderful!" She turned to her husband, who smiled and clapped his hands.

"Then it's settled," he said, also placing his napkin on his place.

As the maid moved to clear up the table, Winnie and her family rose, for they had plans to take a long walk on the beach. The butler handed Winnie her purse and bonnet, then helped her with her coat, for Winnie's father was aiding Winnie's mother.

As the three of them walked on the wet sand, quite close to the water, Winnie gazed out at the vast ocean and felt a pang of sadness. 

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To think, this might be the last time I'll see this. she said to herself.

She let her parents walk ahead, slowing down to let the coming wave lap at her boots. She saw the footsteps of her mother and father being filled with the ocean water, and smiled without humor when she saw that the water fairly jumped in and out, as if it were a spring.

Always came the reminder of the choice she had made, of the choice she could rectify, for she was still young. She thought of Jesse again, of Mae, both with the same welcoming smiles and warm eyes, of Tuck who had cared for her enough to warn her, and even of Miles, who had seemed fond of her in a gruff sort of way but hadn't wanted to acknowledge it because she would grow old and die, and he'd experienced too much loss of friends and family.

She saw all their faces in the salty water of the sea, and was sad again, but for a different reason.

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I'm sorry, she said to the faces she saw. _I'm sorry I tried not to think about you…all this time. And I'm sorry I left without telling anyone. I'm sorry…I wish…_

Winnie dared not finished that thought.

She ran to catch up with her parents.

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~Jade Hunter~


	3. New Meetings

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Title: Life Everlasting

Author: Jade Hunter

A.N: Okay, I read the book in like fourth grade and hated the sad ending. I went to see the movie in hopes for a glorified Hollywood happy ending, but was let down because FOR ONCE the writers stuck to the true ending. So, nagged incessantly with a feeling of disappointment and a need to write an alternate ending, I finally decided to put all my other projects on hold and write this.

Disclaimer: None of the characters of Tuck Everlasting belong to me, and neither do the spring and its magical powers.

"talking"

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thinking

emphasis

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Louisiana had been exciting, especially New Orleans. The entire time she'd been there, Winnie couldn't help but think that Jesse would have loved it. Or wonder if he'd been there before.

Always now, her thoughts wandered back to Jesse. It was as if a dam had crumbled that day, almost two months ago. Before then, she could hardly stop to remember the Tucks. Now, her memories of the family wouldn't leave her. Every day, she wondered where they were, if the family had spread out again, Jesse and Miles going off alone, to meet again in ten years. Then she would doubt that Angus Tuck would let Miles go alone, no telling what he might do.

Her parents had noticed the change in her, Winnie knew, but they weren't treating her any differently. For that, Winnie was grateful. She didn't think she could cope if her family began to treat her like a china doll; Winnie had never been one to like being coddled – protected, yes, but not overly so.

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Jesse knew, she would think, involuntarily. And he had. He had protected her without sheltering her from the world, and he had been wonderful, a dream. Sometimes, Winnie wondered if she had truly met the Tucks, if they weren't a figment of her imagination. These were the days when she despaired of ever seeing them again, and contemplated going back home to drink from the spring.

Winnie was beginning to realize – _Life is hard and full of decisions I can't seem to make._

They were in the capitol now, in Washington DC. It was quite impressive. The first few days, she had gone with her parents to all the memorials and saw the sights, awed at being so close to legendary monuments. When they began to lead her towards museums, Winnie had dug in her heels and resisted. She wasn't that much of a lady yet.

So here she was, sitting on the steps of the museum, looking and feeling very much like a child once more. She hoped her mother wouldn't see her sitting on concrete like this. Winnie double checked to make sure her mother was, indeed, not there, and spread out her skirt in an effort to busy her hands. A copy of the brochure for the museum had been long set aside.

"Winifred?" a male voice asked.

Her heart in her throat, she turned, half-hoping…only to see a strange man. Her heart returned to its proper place.

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Silly. It couldn't have been him. He would never call me 'Winifred'. Still, she was disappointed.

She recalled that he'd called her by her name, and was wary. "How do you know my name?"

He grinned, and she realized with a start that he was not a man, but a boy. Older than her, certainly, although he didn't look so young when he was serious. He had an open and charming smile, she couldn't help but notice, which complimented his already handsome looks. However, she decided firmly, wheat blond hair and deep emerald eyes are not better than golden-brown hair and dark blue eyes.

"So, you are Winifred," he nodded.

"Winnie," she corrected automatically. "How do you know my name?"

The boy sat down on the steps next to her, although he was careful to keep the distance between them quite proper. "Well, Winnie," here he paused to smile again, "I met your parents inside the museum. They asked me to come out and keep you company. I, being the gentleman I am, agreed."

Winnie simply narrowed her eyes, letting her suspicious expression speak for her.

He grinned again when he saw she wasn't that naïve, and said simply, "I came with my parents, too. I'm Michael Edward Jackson, Jr."

She recognized the name instantly. Michael Edward Jackson, Sr. was one of her father's business friends, one of the selective group he mingled with. The Jackson family had great worth to their name, more than even the Foster family. If this boy's, Michael's, parents were truly in the museum, her father and mother would have no trouble recognizing them. And, seeing their son, her mother had probably been relieved to be able to give her lone daughter some company and safety from danger in a foreign place.

Winnie relaxed a bit. Seeing this, he held out his hand for her to shake, "It's nice to meet you, Winnie."

"A pleasure, Michael," she replied almost automatically, her manners taking over.

They shook hands, and he also corrected her, "Michael's my father. Call me Mike."

She nodded, and they fell into a still silence, though it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.

"So," he said. "What's it like being a Foster?"

"I don't know," she replied, tartly. "What's it like being a Jackson?"

He simply smiled, saying, "Touché."

"I don't fence," she retorted, and had the satisfaction of getting the last word.

From then on, their silences – when there were silences – were companionable, comfortable, although there was an age difference of three years, he being the older one. It was because, on some level, they understood each other without saying so, for they were both children of well-to-do families that had standards to uphold and looked to them to uphold those standards. A gilded cage only another trapped in a similar cage could truly understand. Others could give them sympathy, maybe pity, but no one else but another of them could empathize.

From that moment on, Winifred Foster and Michael Jackson, Jr. were fast friends.

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~Jade Hunter~


	4. Talks and Silences

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Title: Life Everlasting

Author: Jade Hunter

A.N: Okay, I read the book in like fourth grade and hated the sad ending. I went to see the movie in hopes for a glorified Hollywood happy ending, but was let down because FOR ONCE the writers stuck to the true ending. So, nagged incessantly with a feeling of disappointment and a need to write an alternate ending, I finally decided to put all my other projects on hold and write this.

Disclaimer: None of the characters of Tuck Everlasting belong to me, and neither do the spring and its magical powers.

"talking"

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thinking

emphasis

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"What do you think will happen now?"

Winnie turned expectantly towards Mike, her eyes full of worry and her heart heavy with the news they had just received.

America had joined the war.

He turned to her, his eyes darkened with worry and fear. 

"I don't know," he admitted. He was not yet jaded, like many boys his age with their status, and freely admitted his emotions. "But I think I'm terrified."

Winnie bit her lip. She didn't know what to say to comfort him. Everyone knew that if a draft were called, Mike would have to sign up and head overseas, as he was an adult in the eyes of the country. Although the rate of volunteers was high, it could change, and who knew how long the war would last.

"Me too," she said, finally.

He sighed, then said, "But it's not all that bad."

She shifted to face him again.

"I mean, a part of me wants to just volunteer, anyway," he explained. "Because if I do, I'll be doing something worthwhile, something meaningful."

Though she was growing increasingly frightened at what her friend was saying, Winnie still had enough wits about her to retaliate with a terse, "Something your father won't approve of."

He shot her a look.

"Don't try to hide it, Mike," she snapped, angry at him, angry at the government, angry at the war, and just angry because she was scared. "Your father will do anything to make sure you stay safe, because you're his only heir, you know it. He might even be able to pay you off the draft list. And that makes you mad more than anything else does. The fact that your father is deciding what will affect your life, even when you're legally of age."

His glare softened slightly, and he quirked a humorless smile.

"You always knew me better than anyone else," he shrugged. "Yes, that makes me angry. Maybe angry enough to join up."

Winnie felt like screaming. Her anger boiled in her veins and she glared at him as heatedly as she knew how, her hands fisting tightly.

"I'll hate you," she bawled suddenly, hot tears streaming down her cheek. "If you join, I'll hate you forever!"

Then, turning her back on him, she began to cry earnestly into her hands.

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You won't live forever, idiot, she wanted to scream at him. _You can't take a bullet and get back up! You're not immortal! You're not Miles! You're not…_

But all she could do was cry and choke on her emotions.

Winnie was vaguely aware of Mike, awkwardly patting her shoulder, telling her not to cry, telling her that he was sorry for mentioning it. She absently took the handkerchief he offered meekly.

As her cries diminished into sniffles, he said softly, "I won't join, if it means that much to you."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him.

"Not because of me," she told him, wiping her eyes. "I can't make you do something, or make you not do something. That'll make me your father."

"But prettier," he quipped.

She glared.

"Sorry."

"Anyway, I can't stop you from doing something," she continued. "And I won't tell your parents or anything, either, so don't worry."

He smiled, for real this time, "I knew you wouldn't tell. That's why I told you."

They fell into a comfortable silence.

"You're my only friend, you know," she said, out of the blue.

He turned to her.

"It's true," she nodded, but didn't elaborate further.

He didn't need her to, however, "I know how you feel."

From anyone else, it might have been meaningless words meant to comfort a young woman who had just opened her heart to her sole friend. From Mike, Winnie knew that it was genuine, because he suffered the same as she did. Most people their age weren't – by their society's standards – not 'good' enough to be around. The ones who were up to their families' social standards were, the lot of them, completely impossible. Winnie couldn't stand them, and she knew Mike couldn't either.

She sighed.

"I don't want to die."

"What?" she asked, not sure she heard him right.

He glanced at her, then repeated, "I don't want to die."

Shocked that her own words from almost two years ago had come out of her friend's mouth, Winnie could only stare for a moment, dumbfounded.

"What brought this on?" she finally managed to ask.

He shrugged, "The talk about the war, joining up, and all that. I was worried that you might think…"

"That you had a death wish?" she finished.

Mike nodded.

Winnie shook her head. "Not many people want to die, Mike."

There was a time, not so long ago, when she would have said that no one would want to die. But that wasn't true. Winnie knew that now. There were some people in the world, one in a million, who would give anything, just to be able to die.

This time, the silence was longer, though still companionable.

For a moment, Winnie continued to gaze at her friend.

Then, she turned back, tilting her head up towards the sky.

"I don't want to die, either."

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~Jade Hunter~


	5. Just A Spring

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Title: Life Everlasting

Author: Jade Hunter

Disclaimer: None of the characters of Tuck Everlasting belong to me, and neither do the spring and its magical powers.

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Meryaptemun: Thanks for reviewing! Um…with the story line I have planned out, Jesse will be coming to get Winnie in the year 2003. Lol. By that time, she might be gone. But this fic – which is the first part of three that outlines Winnie's life after the Tucks leave – is mostly about Winnie and her finding of herself. Making some decisions, stuff like that.

"talking"

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thinking

emphasis

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I don't want to die.

Winnie bit her lip as she contemplated the water bubbling up from the spring. She couldn't help but recall her words to Mike a few nights ago, on the porch.

It was true. It had been true when she admitted it to Angus Tuck, and it was still true when she admitted it to Mike. Two years hadn't changed that, because seventeen was still too young to die, although not as young as fifteen had been.

Two years ago, she had been fifteen, had been a bit uneasy about her decision not to drink from this spring, this water. A year ago, she had been sixteen, and had been conflicted over her feelings and longing for Jesse and her conviction that life could be lived without living forever.

Now…

Now Winnie was seventeen, and in full-blown doubt of her decision. Two years ago, one year ago, America had not been involved in the war. There had been a war, yes, but it had been overseas and America had been neutral, though not all wanted it to be that way. Now there was a war, and though battle still took place overseas, there was the anxiousness of knowing that America had chosen a side, was no longer neutral, no longer safe.

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Help me, she pleaded. _Help me. I don't want to die, I want to live, forever if I have to, because I don't want to die, not here, not now._

But there was no answer.

Closing her eyes, Winnie inhaled deeply.

When she opened her eyes, she had made her decision.

*****

"Winnie?"

She turned, recognizing the voice. "Mike?" she called.

He appeared, and seeing her, headed over. She stood, knowing that if it had been anyone else, they would have given her a scolding for sitting on the dirt in her dress. But this was Mike, and all he did was smile in amusement at her actions.

"What's that?" he asked, peering at the spring.

She turned, gazing down at the water, then took a step backwards, nearly colliding with Mike, who had taken a step forwards.

Laughing, he steadied her.

"It's just a spring," she told him, her tone flippant. 

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Just a tree, she could have been saying, for all she sounded like, _Just a clump of dirt. Just a leaf. Nothing important._

"I didn't know you had a spring here," Mike said, curious. 

He stepped closer to the spring, and Winnie bit her lip, wanting to pull him away. But then he would know that something was strange, and would insist on staying. Winnie simply had to wait until Mike tired of the spring himself.

She shrugged, "Well, apparently we do. I found it when I was fifteen."

Mike traced the T carved on the tree. "Did you do this?"

"Of course not," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Why would I carve anything on a tree, especially a T?"

He grinned at her, then conceeded, "True. It's older than you, anyway."

Winnie froze, though Mike didn't see it as he had gone back to examining the carving.

"Really?" she asked, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. "How can you tell?"

"It just looks old, smooth, and moss grew over it," he replied, glancing at her oddly. "Are you okay? You sound strange."

Winnie cleared her throat. "I don't know," she said, truthfully.

"Do you think you're coming down with something?" he asked, abandoning the tree and spring, much to Winnie's relief. "Let's head back to your house."

He stepped past her, a hand on her shoulder, but paused when she didn't move. "Winnie?"

Winnie was looking at the spring, at the T, and thought about her choice.

"Winnie?" Mike asked again, taking a step, sliding his hand down to take her hand.

She turned back to Mike, smiling, and let herself be tugged towards her house. She didn't know what would happen in the future, or if the choice she made was the completely correct one, but it was her choice. It would always be her choice.

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~Jade Hunter~

Fin.


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